i wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

i have been given a kick in the ass with a B-/C+ essay, and i want to badly for it to not be real. unfortunately for me, it is too real and i am stuck with it, and the only thing i can do is look forward, cheesy as it sounds. my anger and indignance has somewhat fizzled out and all i can do is sigh as i look at my paper and sigh again and again and the uphill battle ahead of me.

so the other night i had another bad dream. you have absolutely no idea how i wish i could control the stuff of my dreams, cos all these icky dreams leave me unnerved when i get up in the morning. if only the feel of your hand in mine could take the place of spectral insubstantial fears. i can't help but feel a tad haunted by all this; i am stalked in my sleep and the horrible part of it all is that it is the only time when i cannot control anything. 

i wish i could exorcise those phantom fears, the ghost of paranoia - all that inexorably incessantly upset me as i behold them in my waking life.

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

What hours, O what black hours we have spent

This night! what sights you, heart, saw, ways you went!

And more must, in yet longer light's delay.

from Carrion Comfort

Gerard Manley Hopkins